At Nineteen
by A-Hard-Days-Night
Summary: Nineteen, Remus decided, was far too silly an age to be a virgin. Drunken kisses and talking hands. RemusSirius
1. Wtf?

_Finally I have written something. I've been off school since February, have all the free time in the world, and I don't write a single little thing. I own nothing, of course, all JK Rowling's. And there is some light slash, meaning two boys paired together romantically; please don't leave homophobic reviews. _

_Hope you enjoy :)_

* * *

Nineteen, Remus decided, was far too silly an age to be a virgin.

For a moderately attractive, intelligent boy with a subtle yet fierce sense of humour, it was an inadequate and unacceptable sexual class for a boy – no, a man – of his stature to fall under.

And so, after reducing his current dilemma to a single self derogatory statement, Remus found himself in an overly crowded bar, wedged between two large middle-aged women, who were – to use a common phrase – piss drunk.

"So," the drunk woman on Remus' left said, leaning forward to look at her friend, and spilling her drink on the bar top in the process. "I told me 'usband that 'e can secretary his shag if 'e bloody well wants to, but I," she jabbed herself in the chest for what she obviously thought was a more dramatic effect, "was leaving 'im."

Remus shifted in his seat and swivelled his stool with much difficulty, to face the woman. "Are you positive you don't want to switch places with me, Miss?"

The drunken woman peered at Remus with such intensity that she went cross-eyed, opened her mouth and then promptly passed out. The dull, wooden thunk of her head meeting the bar-top went unnoticed as it was in perfect timing with the drumbeat of the bar music.

Remus concluded that it was time to find a new place to sit. He cleared his throat and muttered his excuse to the woman's friend, and spotted a pretty blonde girl sitting alone, who could potentially help him out with his quest. Approaching her nervously, he caught her eye and smiled at her. "Excuse me," he said with what he hoped was a deep, attractive voice. However, it sounded more like the squeak of a frightened mouse. "Is this seat taken?"

"No," she said and rose to her feet. "It isn't. And neither is this one."

Stunned momentarily, he stood rooted on the spot. Rejection number one. How many more were to follow?

Since there was no logic in letting the small table and two chairs go to waste, he sat down in hopes that someone would spot the poor lonely boy and offer him sympathy with some full out sex.

"Excuse me, Sir, would you like me to top you off?"

It had worked in all of two seconds. Hardly suppressing his grin, Remus turned to face his soon to be sexual partner, only to encounter a wandering bartender holding a pitcher of beer and gesturing to his almost empty glass. His face fell far beyond sea level. "Yeah, please," he said nonchalantly, and the bartender proceeded to 'top him off'.

He sulked and drank his beer.

"Remus!" a voice hollered from across the dance floor, startling Remus and miraculously being heard by just about everyone in the bar. He knew that voice rather well; he also knew that no one in their right mind would shag – let alone notice – him if he were standing next to Sirius Black. Remus pointedly looked away.

"Blimey, it is you." Sirius had not noticed the anvil sized hint to bugger off. Instead, he did the very opposite, he sat in the empty chair across from Remus and spoke to him. "You do realise that you're in a bar? Drinking a beer?"

"Yes, thank you." Remus took another sip.

"But you work in a book shop; your lot don't normally venture to these parts."

"Go away," Remus hissed through clenched teeth.

Sensing something complex and perhaps even sinister behind Remus' words, Sirius leaned forward intently in his chair. "What's the matter with you tonight?"

"Nothing." Remus focused all of his attention on the wall to his right where there were many pretty flashing lights morphing and twisting into many pretty flashing patterns.

"I really beg to differ."

"Differ away, then." Why wouldn't the bastard just leave?

"Tell me."

"If I tell you, will you leave?" Sirius nodded.

Remus took a deep breath, readied himself by drinking half his glass in one gulp, and said, "I came here to get laid."

He inched his head to the left to peer at his friend, and instead of being met with laughing eyes like Remus had expected, he was confronted with worry.

"Remus," Sirius said. Remus did not have to be sober to notice that his words were dripping with caution. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Go away," Remus said. "You said you'd go away."

"I – Right." And he left without another word.

That was Remus' queue to get himself a much stronger drink.

Three rather large rum and Cokes later found Remus stumbling out the back door of the bar – unsuccessful in his mission – and desperately trying to remember where he lived. If only the ground would stop swaying back and forth as though he were on a boat, he may have been able to procure a precious peaceful moment to recall the more important personal facts one should really know about themselves.

He thought he saw a person walk by him but, given that his sight had gone white and fuzzy, he could not be certain and it could have very well been a large rubbish bin.

Caught up in these very vital thoughts, he tripped and fell against the outer walls of the bar, hands clawing ineffectively at the bricks in futile attempts to remain upright. It was useless. Defeated, he managed to turn his body round with a loud drunken grunt so his back rested against the bricks and let his body slide down the wall in – despite the circumstances of things – a graceful, fluid manner.

He would sleep here, and hopefully remember his address in the morning. It was a very good plan, and Remus nodded enthusiastically to hinder any unwanted doubts.

A curious sensation in his chest began to come over him, and for a moment he thought it was his address generously returning to him. However, that notion was quickly dismissed when he pitched himself to his side and vomited something fierce.

He did not recall commanding his hands to brush his hair out of his eyes, but apparently they did so anyways. "Are you out of your bloody mind?" Apparently his hands could speak to him as well. Curious.

Remus moaned rather pitifully and pathetically to his hands in reply.

"Of all the stupid and irresponsible things you've done, Remus, this is the worst," Sirius said, exasperated. Not that it mattered, for Remus could not distinguish emotions. "Come to think of it, this is the _only_ stupid and irresponsible thing you've done."

"Where – live?" he asked in such a quiet voice that he was not even sure he had uttered it.

He felt hands grasp his sides and lift him up. His legs unable to support his weight, he fell forward and the arms around his waist tightened resulting in a one sided embrace. That was Remus' cue to pass out.

* * *

Remus awoke with a loud moan. The inside of his mouth felt like sandpaper. He was still leaning against someone for support, and sensed rather than saw that the setting had changed.

"Decided to wake up _after_ I dragged you up four flights of stairs, have you?"

Remus mumbled incoherently as Sirius gently lowered him onto a soft surface that he concluded must be a nice, fluffy cloud. He could not have been unconscious for very long for his head had gone numb and his limbs tingled unpleasantly indicating that he was still rather drunk.

Opening his eyes a sliver, he saw Sirius rise from the edge of the bed – not a cloud. Without consulting his brain or common sense, Remus grabbed hold of Sirius' elbow and pulled him closer and crushed their lips together. Sirius' eyes widened and Remus closed his own, his dry, rough lips against Sirius' smooth ones. Remus was in no state of mind to know what he was doing, but his body was convincing him that this was what he wanted.

Sirius shoved him back onto the bed, a little rougher than he had expected. "No, Remus," Sirius said. "Not when you're like this."

He walked to the door and closed it quietly behind him. Leaning back on the wall behind him he sighed deeply. "Maybe when you're sober."

* * *

_  
No intention to make a reference to that Evanesence song, by the way, considering I've heard that song about once in my life. But take it which ever way you like :)_

_Thank you very much to __**Fluffisacoolword**__ and Liza Dear (__**Northern-Child**__) for looking over this chapter!_

_I've posted this on LiveJournal and have had many people ask whether a sequel was on the way. The answer is yes, I did start a second chapter but I am_ horrible _with updating, so it could be a week or five months._

_Thanks for reading :) _

Dana


	2. Llama love?

_Oh my god, what is this? An update? _

_So in the previous chapter, I said that I am unpredictable with updates and it could be a week or five months. Well, two years later, here is chapter 2.  
_

* * *

A loud clatter, muffled by the closed door, woke Remus. He was lying on his side, still in yesterday's clothing and reeked of stale alcohol. A thin layer of cool sweat stuck uncomfortably on his forehead.

He opened his eyes.

"Fuuuck."

The dark room, ironically enough, seemed to blind him, so he closed his eyes and wished for non-existence to engulf him. The world obviously did not grant him this one simple wish and made it very clear that he was conscious and miserable.

Somehow, he managed to swing his feet over the side of the bed and steady himself against the wall as he stood up. What must been the world's worst head rush overwhelmed every fiber of his being and he vowed never to drink again.

One step at a time, much like a baby learning how to walk, he reached the door. Several terrible things happened all at once. One, he opened the door and the sunlight shining through Sirius' large picture windows seemed to attack Remus much like when Hitler invaded Poland (not pleasantly).

Secondly, the smell of whatever Sirius was cooking seemed to make Remus _very_ nauseous.

And lastly, Sirius, spotting Remus half dead in the door way, dropped his spatula on the floor and yelled, "You're up!"

All of these combined was far too much for Remus' delicate state, so he groaned, put his hands over his head, doubled over and fell to the floor.

Finally, when he deemed it safe to uncurl himself, he did so and found Sirius standing over him. "What am I doing at your place?" he managed to croak out.

Remus thought he caught Sirius' smile falter, but when he looked again, it was back in place.

"You don't remember?"

Remus shook his head, which caused his headache to increase drastically.

"You must have been really plastered."

"Rub it in, will you?"

Sirius pulled him to his feet and led him over to the kitchen, where Remus leaned against the cabinet as though it was his life line. He accepted the glass of water Sirius handed him and drank it as though it was a life line. It made him feel only a fraction better. Fucking useless water.

Remus sniffed and stared pointedly at the scrambled eggs sizzling happily in the pan. "You didn't have to make that for me. I don't think I'll be able to eat anything."

"It's not for you," Sirius said. "This is for you." He grabbed a bottle from under the counter and uncorked it. It smelled like rotten meat and oozed brown steam.

"What the hell is that?" Remus crinkled his nose at the stench.

"It's your breakfast. Hangover prevention potion. Works wonders," he said, though he held the bottle as far away as possible from his nose.

"So what happened last night?" Remus asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. For all he knew he could have tried to coax a llama to sleep with him.

"Well, you kind of drank a lot."

"Really, I hadn't noticed? Apart from that I mean."

"Ah." Sirius hesitated. "I found you outside looking at your hands and I brought you here after you passed out.

"And that's all that happened?" Remus frowned. "That's not very exciting."

"For you that is exciting." He hesitated again, then said, "If you were wondering if someone offered to sleep with you, then the answer is no. Sorry," he added.

Remus would have been questioning why Sirius was hesitating more than someone deciding to voluntarily cut off their own arm had his head not been about explode. Or implode. Either one was possible and quite probable at the moment.

He looked down at his feet. "I should have expected as much."

"Do you really want your first time to be with a random girl that you met while drunk and probably won't remember what she looks like the next morning."

"I'm just getting a bit tired of waiting." Remus sat down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. "Are you sure this is safe to drink? I'm pretty sure if Snape took liquid form, this is what he would look like." He sniffed it and made a face, then added, "And smell like."

Sirius poured the potion into a glass – far too much in Remus' opinion. "Drink," he said.

Remus pinched his nose and downed the potion in one gulp and then gagged. "That is possibly the most revolting thing I've ever tasted." Though as he said it, his head stopped hurting as much and the light did not seem as evil and unforgiving.

"Stop looking and someone will come along," Sirius said after Remus stopped threatening to vomit.

"That's easy for you to say. You did it for the first time in sixth year and now you have girls lining up for miles to have a go with you."

Sirius started to say something but Remus cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I have to go to work soon." He turned his attention to the morning paper on the table.

Sirius sat down next to him. After a few moments, Remus noticed that Sirius was making strange noises. A few moments after that, Remus realized that Sirius was sniffing him.

Before Remus could ask the meaning behind his friend's strange behaviour, Sirius said, "You smell like alcohol. I'll get you some clean clothes."

Remus changed into Sirius' clothes and swore loudly when he looked at the clock. "I have to go," he said as he rushed to the front door where Sirius was standing.

He turned to face Sirius and grabbed hold of his elbow. He hesitated for a second. Why did touching Sirius' elbow seem so familiar? He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember but his memories came up blank.

Sirius was standing still – too still – and he seemed to be holding his breath. What the hell did he do last night?

Oh Merlin, he must really have tried to sleep with a llama.

"Thanks for – everything," Remus said at last and left before Sirius could reply.

Sirius stood, staring at the closed door. Things were about to get complicated.

* * *

_Don't count on a quick update because apparently I am unreliable as it took two years for me to write this. I suggest adding it to your alert list so just when you forget about this fic, I'll update it and you'll get a nice little reminder in your inbox._

_Llamas are awesome, aren't they? My boyfriend got me a stuffed llama because I seem to be obsessed with them and shriek with joy every time I see one. I called him Floyd the Llama.  
_

_Don't forget, reviews are what makes cute fluffy kittens all cute and fluffy!_


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